Ghosts in the Machine
by Kay Em2
Summary: Commander Nogura puts Lt jg Scott in charge of a maintenance crew - what could go wrong?...
1. Prologue

**Stardate 1324.5**

The electrical hum of the Jeffries Tube on Deck 12 was 'off key'. Scotty was sure of it, however much his tricorder and the ship's computer assured him that all systems were calibrated correctly. It had been 'off key' since their trip beyond the galactic barrier, and it still sounded wrong now, even with most of the _Enterprise_'s systems shut down. The engineer had hoped that the upgrades he'd helped install over the past month would solve the trouble, but as soon as they'd begun to test the engines he'd noticed it was back. Naturally, no-one else even understood that there was a problem, let alone tried to solve it, so – as usual – Scotty was doing the job himself.

Which was why he was lying in the Jeffries Tube with a sonic probe and a phase compensator, trying to track down the source of the errant noise. At least it was quiet on board, he thought – only a few officers and crew were needed for the test run around the solar system, so that made it easier to concentrate on what he was doing.

Carefully, he pried the cover off the main connection array for the gravimetric sensor circuits and switched on the sonic probe, shaking his head as his tricorder assured him, again, that there was nothing wrong with the wretched thing. He replaced the cover, pried off the next one along… and the noise changed. It suddenly sounded normal. He stared at the cover, then at its housing. It couldn't be that simple – could it?

"Mr Scott!"

Startled, he banged his head on the overhead conduit, and dropped the probe, cursing as it slid past his knee and straight on down the Tube's sloped floor to the corridor behind him.

"Sorry, sir." Uhura picked up the instrument from where it had come to rest beside her boot heel. "Didn't mean to make you jump!"

Scotty held onto the grab rail and slid out of the Tube, rubbing his head. "Lieutenant, one of these days you're going to be the death of me!" he said, "What's the problem?"

"The Captain asked to see you in his quarters right away, sir – and you didn't answer the comm. It doesn't seem to be working on this deck."

"That's because I switched it _off_ on this deck. Emergency overrides included."

"You're not supposed to be able to d…" Uhura held up a hand. "Sorry. Dumb remark. I'll cancel the diagnostic when I get back to the Bridge."

He smiled an apology. "I should have let you know – I just didn't think it was that important while we were spiralling round the inner planets!"

"It probably isn't," she said, as they walked to the nearest turbolift, "But you know the Captain!"

* * *

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Ah, Mr Scott." Kirk looked up from his computer console as Scott entered the room, "Tracked down your gremlin yet?"

"No sir, but I think I'll have it run to ground soon." Scotty refrained from mentioning that he felt he'd been on the verge of making a breakthrough when Kirk's summons had interrupted him – it wouldn't help – and stood with his hands behind his back awaiting the Captain's instructions.

Kirk flicked a glance at his computer screen. "I've asked Mr Spock to continue to double as Head of Science _and_ First Officer for the remainder of our mission," he said.

"Yes, sir." Scotty scrambled to find a way of saying _He has a tough act to follow _without actually raising the spectre of Gary Mitchell. "I'm sure he'll do an excellent job in both posts."

Kirk's mouth quirked slightly, perhaps in recognition of his engineer's outbreak of tact. "I'm sure he will. The reason I wanted to see you is that Spock _was_ my official second officer. I now need to assign another officer of the line to be third in command." He looked up, and Scott's heart sank. "I'm giving you the job."

"But, sir… I'm an _engineer_!" Scotty knew his protest would be in vain. Kirk would not understand that, for him, saying he was an engineer was pretty much on a par with saying he breathed in and out.

"An engineer with command school training and years of experience," Kirk pointed out, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms.

"Yes, Captain, but…" Scott sighed, knowing that protest was hopeless. He still remembered the frustration he had felt during his _Kobayashi Maru _test, when he had had to stand on the Bridge and _explain_ what he wanted the engine room to do, instead of just _doing_ the job himself. He was still convinced that if he'd been allowed to just get down to engineering, they'd have taken out the fifteen Klingon cruisers the computer had sent to finish them.

"Mr Scott." Kirk's tone was firm, and he waved a hand at the computer screen. "Don't blame me – blame your record! Even if I ignored your command decisions on the _Enterprise_, you've taken the conn on other ships – and as if that weren't enough, you were Officer Commanding at Magellan 3!"

"I was a Junior Grade Lieutenant who didn't have the sense to know he was in over his head!" Scotty realised he'd just snapped at a senior officer, and shook his head. "Sorry, sir. It's… a sore point."

Kirk stared at him for a moment, then leaned forward and squinted at his screen as though to check he had read it correctly. "Magellan 3? Scotty, they gave you a medal and a promotion for that! I was hoping you'd tell me all about it over a drink some time!"

"I'll take the drink, Captain – and I'll take any command assignments you want to throw at me," said Scotty, "But I don't talk about Magellan. Not ever."


	2. Chapter 1

**Fourteen years earlier**

"Magellan 3, people, is a large asteroid in the Beta 20 star system, which Starfleet has been using as a way-station and supply store for the past thirty years," said the _Sherman_'s XO, as a picture of the asteroid in question flashed onto the briefing room viewscreen, a cutaway section on one side showing the hollowed-out interior.

The room was so crowded with engineers, technicians and specialists that it was standing room only at the back, and Lieutenant jg Scott leaned back against the bulkhead as he studied the schematic on the screen. The asteroid was big – a couple of miles across at its widest point – ovoid in shape, and sandstone rock in nature. Inside was a series of storage areas of various sizes, linked by corridors, conduits, turbolifts and air ventilation shafts, with the control systems located in large central chamber, which had smaller rooms leading off.

"Most of these systems have not been upgraded since the station became operational," the XO continued, "So your job will be to scan, assess, and replace every conduit, circuit and connection in there – _without_ damaging any supplies or materiél in storage."

Scotty switched his brain to 'stand-by' – he'd heard all this before. Quite why Commander Nogura insisted on going over the same stuff every time, he didn't know. Their _job_ was to upgrade space stations and ships – what did the XO think they were, goldfish? He looked around the room, and smiled as he found Rachel grinning at him. She rolled her blue eyes, clearly as bored with the briefing as he was, and started to sidle across the room toward him.

"The _Sherman_ will drop you off, pick up the station staff for monthly R&R rotation, and collect a consignment of medicines for urgent delivery to the Terrax colony. We'll return for you in three days, by which time the Captain will expect Magellan to be a model of state-of-the-art engineering efficiency," Nogura intoned.

Rachel leaned back against the bulkhead, next to Scotty. "Did you get the file?" she murmured, a mischievous smile creasing her freckles as she glanced up at him.

"_101 Things To Do In A Maintenance Shaft_? Aye!" He'd only had time to skim it, but from what he'd seen, most of the suggestions were illegal, impossible, or potentially suicidal. Page seventeen had looked interesting though. It even had a diagram.

"I've memorised the best bits," she said, with a wink, "Assuming you're on for a proof of concept meeting some time soon?"

It took some effort to fight down his laugh at her choice of phrase, but somehow Scotty managed it. "I suppose that's one way of putting it," he grinned. He jerked his chin at the viewscreen. "Lots of potential meeting places in there, I imagine."

His smile vanished as Nogura's voice boomed: "Lieutenants Scott and Halton! Something you two wish to share with the rest of us?"

"I think he said something about a shaft sir," said Simon Angelus, from his seat nearby.

"Yeah, I'll bet he did!" added Mike Tallamy, as ribald jeers and laughter swept the room.

_That would be 'shaft' as in 'where I'm going to be spending the rest of my career'_, thought Scotty, glaring at Angelus. _Bastard_!

Nogura wasn't laughing. "Well, Scott? I'm waiting."

And somehow, some corner of Scotty's mind pulled out an ace. "Lieutenant Angelus misheard me, sir," he said, pasting on his most innocent expression, "I was actually just remarking on the _staff_ you mentioned being at the station. Aren't these places usually completely automated?"

The commander's eyes narrowed, and Scotty knew he hadn't fooled the man for a second, but to his relief the XO let the matter drop, and answered the question. "In view of the constantly changing nature and requirements of the supplies kept on Magellan, automation is not an option here," he said. "Any other questions?" He glared round the room as though daring anyone else to speak. No-one did. "Dismissed," he growled.

Tallamy gave Scott an apologetic smile as he stood up. "Nice catch," he said.

"Scott – remain behind!" called Nogura.

"Or not," amended Tallamy, with a 'there but for the grace of God' pat on Scotty's shoulder as he walked past.

Scotty felt Rachel's hand catch his, briefly, as she turned to go. "I'll see you later to apologise," she whispered.

"Hope I'm still in a fit state to enjoy it!"

* * *

It seemed to Scotty that the room could not have emptied any more quickly if a Red Alert had sounded. He rather wished one would - anything would be preferable to having to face Commander Nogura alone. He automatically stood to attention, as the XO advanced across the room toward him, and tried not to think about scrubbing plasma conduits on a waste transfer barge.

"Lieutenant Scott, I want to make clear to you that I do not call these briefings for the good of my health," said Nogura, as he began to pace back and forth about two feet in front of Scotty. "I call these briefings for everyone, every time, so that any and all potential problems, hazards, issues and dangers can be highlighted and reinforced. Now, I know that you get bored with hearing the _same_ hazards, issues and potential dangers every time you come in here, but if you are not very careful, one of these days when you are tuning me out of your personal communications receiver and flirting with Lieutenant Halton at the back of the room, I will say something that is _different_. Something that is _important_. And something that just might kill you because _you're not listening!_"

Scotty winced as the commander stopped right next to him, raised his voice and yelled in his ear.

"Am I getting through _now_, Scott?"

"Aye, sir."

"Good!" Nogura stepped back, stood still and folded his arms as he went on, quietly: "You _need_ to listen to me, Lieutenant. Because, by all accounts, you're a good officer, and one of the finest engineers we've ever had. You have the potential to be one of the best – but if you're going to fulfil that promise, you need to learn that talent isn't enough. It has to be allied with discipline and experience – and if you don't start paying attention when you need to, you won't live long enough to acquire either."

Scotty wasn't sure whether a reply was expected or not. While he was still deciding, the commander waved a hand and said, "At ease," then, as the engineer gratefully shifted position, went on: "Maybe we haven't given you enough of a challenge." He smiled, and Scotty thought that was worse than a frown, for he had absolutely no idea what Nogura might be planning. "With that in mind," said the commander, "I am appointing you as officer in command at Magellan 3."

"But… sir! I don't have seniority! Angelus…"

"Will do as he's damned well told. As will you. I shall expect a full and detailed report from you when you get back. I've uploaded a copy of the briefing to your tricorder, you'd better make sure you read it."

"Yes, sir."

Nogura nodded a dismissal, and Scotty turned to go.

"Oh, Lieutenant, one other thing?"

"Sir?"

"Before I set eyes on you again - get your bloody hair cut!"

Scotty sighed. "Aye, sir."

* * *

Scotty lay back against the pillows of the Station Officer's bed, and placed a kiss against Rachel's damp hair as she snuggled against him. "Apology accepted," he smiled.

"I should hope so!" She giggled. "Good thing you got a room of your own!"

"Aye, well – rank hath its privilege." The rest of the 20-strong team were sharing Magellan 3's other staff quarters – two at a time per room, with three shift changes – but Scotty had decided that, if he was going to have the responsibility of being in charge, he might as well take any recompense he could get.

"Rank hath its drawbacks too," said Rachel, "There I was looking forward to finding a nice, quiet maintenance shaft with you, and instead, you decide you'd better lead by example, and start working twice as hard as everyone else!"

"There'll be other maintenance shafts. You weren't the one in that room with Nogura! I have to do this right, or I'm going to be stuck on repair and upgrade duties for the rest of my life." He didn't add _And I'm better than that_, because he knew Rachel would tease him about being arrogant, but he knew it was true. He closed his eyes and imagined for a moment how it might feel to be a Chief Engineer on a big ship – a destroyer, maybe, or a battleship. Something interesting and important.

Then a klaxon sounded, and the light above the door flashed red. "Everybody better get in here," said a voice Scotty recognised as Ensign Zhang, "Long-range scanners show Klingons – heading right for us."


	3. Chapter 2

"Alright, Zhang – what's the situation?" Scotty pulled his uniform jersey on as he crossed the control room, and combed his fingers through his hair. As the Ensign had only been on board the _Sherman_ for a few weeks, Scott's first thought was that the young officer had misread the readouts – and God help him if he had.

"A Klingon vessel, sir, on an approach vector," said Zhang. He was standing in front of the central control console, which was quartered into inward-facing stations with a monitor atop of each. The Ensign indicated the monitor he was facing, then switched the image to the room's main viewscreen so that everyone could see it.

"Damn," said Scotty, under his breath. There was no mistake: the energy signature of the vessel at the extreme range of the scanners was, indeed, Klingon – and a D6 Warbird at that. If Zhang hadn't been running a check on those systems… "Kill that blasted klaxon, will you, Ensign – we all heard it!" In the stillness that followed, Scotty suddenly understood the phrase 'the burden of command'. Nineteen people were looking right at him, as though he had some idea what to do, and the only one who didn't look plain scared was Simon Angelus – and that was because he looked scared _and_ relieved, no doubt thanking his stars that he wasn't going to be the one making the decisions today. "Okay." _Think… think! What do we need?_ That was easy – help! "Angelus, get on the comm channel and send a distress signal. The _Sherman _might still be in range, and if they're not…"

"We can't, sir." A young redheaded technician spoke up, and Scotty remembered assigning her and her team to the communications relays. "We just finished taking out the old sub-space systems ten minutes ago – we haven't gotten around to putting the new ones in yet." She looked at the two men flanking her as though requiring back up, as she went on: "We only have internal channels working right now. Sorry."

He gave her a hard stare, though he knew he was being unfair: none of them could have foreseen that they would need those systems in quite such a hurry. "We'll _all_ be sorry if you don't get back in there and get them connected, Murray!" He nodded at Tallamy. "Mike, go give them a hand."

"It'll take…"

"… at least three hours, yes. By which time the Klingons will be within jamming range. See if you can find a few short cuts."

"Will do."

The four of them left at a run, and Scotty looked round at the remaining crew. "Alright," he said, bracing his hands on his hips, "Tell me what we _have _got."

* * *

A half-hour later, he was re-reading the briefing Nogura had put on his tricorder, wondering if he _had _missed anything, overlooked some clue as to why the Klingons were coming toward them. More importantly, was there anything in it that would help him keep them away!

He had a team working on enhancing the station's shields and transporter screens; and another assembling backups for both. If the Klingons wanted to get onto the station, they'd have to do it the hard way: through the air-lock – and Scotty had sent Rachel and a couple of technicians to seal that shut. He'd also put a couple of teams to work installing force-field generators in the central maintenance shaft, and Lieutenant Hill and Ensign Nunez had been sent to fetch the contents of the weapons store-room. Simon Angelus was sitting at a console opposite Scotty, double-checking the station inventory to see if there was anything else they might adapt, patch together, cross-circuit or overload. Of course, if the Klingons were intent on simply vaporising the station, there really wasn't a whole lot any of them would be able to do about it – they had no phasers, no photon torpedoes, not even any anti-matter to beam into the Warbird's path.

Scotty glanced at the onrushing image on the control room's main monitor screen – and realised that the reason for the Klingon attack was staring him in the face. "It's the scanners."

Angelus gave him a blank stare. "What's the scanners?" He looked at the monitor screen, back at Scott. "There's nothing wrong with them, if that's what you're driving at."

"They're _perfect_, Simon, that's what I'm driving at!" He tapped his tricorder, and pointed at the screen. "Nogura said that _most _of the station's systems had not been upgraded for thirty years. But all the scanners _have_. They've been replaced every few years for the past decade. Why do you suppose that is?"

He saw understanding dawn in Angelus' eyes. "Magellan is a listening post!"

"Aye, and one the Klingons have got wise to."

The same thought occurred to both of them together: "They're going to blow it apart!"

"Scotty, we have to stop them!"

The full-stripe braid on Angelus' sleeve caught the light as he jumped to his feet, and Scotty wondered if Nogura had had _this_ much of a challenge in mind when he had ignored Angelus' seniority and put a Junior Grade Lieutenant in charge of the mission. _I have _got_ to learn not to talk to pretty women at the back of the room. It never ends well_¸ he thought. Aloud, he said: "And your idea is…?"

Angelus began to discount options, ticking them off with his fingers as he spoke: "They don't know we're here - we can't contact them – they probably wouldn't care if we did – we can't move the station – we can't escape ourselves…"

"Escape!" Scotty snapped his fingers, "That's it!" He pulled up the station schematics on the wall monitor. "There's an escape pod for the station staff in case of emergency."

"But it only holds four!"

"I'm not intending for it to hold anybody – the Klingons will probably use it for target practice – but _it has its own independent distress-call system_! I can program it to sent a squirt message for help to the _Sherman_, and broadcast an overlaid shorter-range message in an old code that the Klingons will pick up."

"Saying what? 'Don't shoot'?"

"No." Scotty grabbed a toolkit, glad of having something technical to do. "Saying 'please assist, under Klingon attack, imperative they do not access our memory banks' – or something like that." He shrugged. "I'll sort out the finer points while I work. Keep on with that inventory, Simon – I'll be back in ten minutes. I hope."

* * *

"Um... external communications have been re-established, sir," said Murray, walking back into the control room just as the Klingons' ultimatum to _'surrender or die'_ echoed around the station.

Scotty nodded an acknowledgement, while Angelus jerked a thumb in the direction of the nearest speaker. "Yeah, we got the message. Thanks."

"Look on the bright side," said Tallamy, who was lying prone on the floor, looking down into an open maintenance conduit, "At least we're not about to be reduced to our component atoms."

"Not yet anyway," muttered Angelus.

"Don't suppose anyone's up for surrendering?" Tony Hill's English accent preceded his blond head out of the access hatch next to Tallamy, and he held up his hands as everyone else in the room growled and glared at him. "Alright, alright! Just making sure we'd explored all the options! I don't care for the other one much!"

"We're not going to die," said Scotty, getting to his feet and checking that everyone was back in the control room, "Not if I have anything to do with it. If you've finished tying in the shield backups, Tony, get out of there. Lieutenant Angelus has finished the inventory, and I need everyone to take a look at it and see if they spot anything potentially useful - beyond the obvious, I mean." He turned to Angelus. "Put the information up on the main screen, will you, Simon? Flag the items we've already identified for use."

While Hill and Tallamy picked up their tools and replaced the conduit's access panel, Angelus fed the information from his monitor to the main screen. Green asterisks had been placed beside engineering and agricultural implements, and question marks next to medical equipment. The rest of the list mainly consisted of medicines, office supplies, non-perishable food, and seeds.

"Um… Mr Scott?" Ensign Zhang pointed at the screen as he spoke, puzzlement etching his features. "There are two spare warp nacelles in the Ships' Spares section – and you've flagged them for use? How?"

Scotty smiled. "By using the station's own transporter," he said, tripping a toggle to put a schematic of the station on the screen. "That sealed airlock isn't going to keep the Klingons out for long, it'll buy us a little time is all. Once they get inside the station, there are four routes to this room: the turbolift; the main corridor; the central maintenance shaft; and the long way around via the main storage areas. Now, we can sabotage the turbolifts but we need a quick and easy way to block the other approaches. Once we've got everything we need out of the store rooms, I'm going to beam one of those nacelles into the stores' corridor, and the other nacelle into the main corridor."

"But they're too big! The passageways aren't nearly wide enough to… Oh." Scotty saw understanding cross the Ensign's face.

"Exactly," he said, "The nacelles won't fit. They'll actually fuse with the corridor walls and the rock behind, and form a solid barricade."

"Holy cow!" he heard someone mutter.

"Wow!" Rachel's voice sounded strained, but she managed a wan grin. "Do you know how much those things cost?"

She clearly hadn't meant for him to take her question seriously, but he answered it all the same. "Starfleet can build more nacelles. They can't build more of any of us." He switched the screen back to the list of stores. "And we still have the central maintenance shaft to deal with, because that's the way the Klingons will have to come at us. That means we have got…" He checked the chronometer on the console in front of him, "… less than two hours to block, booby-trap, and barricade it." He pointed at the list on the viewscreen. "Any suggestions?"

"Well… some of those medicinal items could probably be combined to make a tranquiliser, or gas-grenade?" ventured Nunez, after a moment.

Scotty nodded. "Check it out on the computer – unless anyone here majored in chemistry?"

As Nunez slid into a chair beside one of the workstations and began to interrogate the system, one of the technicians spoke up. "Er… they've also got trico-triticale seeds listed, sir. We might be able to use those."

"Trico-triticale seeds?" Scotty spent precious seconds racking his brains trying to work that one out before deciding that Reinhardt must have misunderstood the situation. "Werner, I'll put this as simply as I can. We're the three little pigs, and the big, bad wolf is coming to get us. The last thing we need is straw!"

"It's not straw – it's wheat." Reinhardt shook his head. "In any case, that's irrelevant. The _seeds_ are the important thing. They're small, hard and spherical – like those ball-bearings they used to use, anyone seen those in the engineering museum? Just spill them on the floors and watch the Klingons fall over!"

Scotty grinned. "Sounds like a shortcut to _really_ pissing them off," he said, "Go get the seeds, Reinhardt – and Ngaio, go help him. But don't spill anything till we're good and ready!"

The two technicians left at a run, and Scotty switched the main viewscreen back to the external scan. The Warbird was much closer now. There was nothing to give it scale, but Scotty knew that it was 300 feet long and could carry a crew of over 200. If the _Sherman_ didn't get back here within the next few hours, chances were there'd be no-one left for them to rescue.


	4. Chapter 3

The station rocked and lights flickered as the first Klingon disruptor bolts found their mark.

"Shields holding, sir," Hill reported "And back-ups on stand-by." He pressed switches and checked underneath the console before continuing his report. "I'm afraid we lost external scanners though."

"Great. So we've no way of knowing whether rescue's coming," said Scotty, from his seat at the console opposite.

"'Fraid not. I could try bypassing…"

Scotty shook his head. "There isn't time. In any case…" He shrugged. "Maybe it's better not to know."

Hill nodded understanding, and Scotty switched his own attention back to the monitor screen in front of him, which was feeding through pictures from various parts of the station. He could see Angelus and Tallamy putting the finishing touches to what they called their 'Klingon Harvester' – a series of rotating blades from the agricultural equipment store, mounted halfway down the central maintenance shaft, and controlled via a simple cable system that was wired into the main console. The turbolifts had all been sabotaged, the cars set to plunge at top speed to either top or bottom of the shafts if any non-human entered them; and everyone had been issued with two fully-charged phasers. Additional power packs, of which there were hundreds in the store-rooms, had also been charged up in readiness, and distributed along the maintenance shaft and piled behind the control room console. Twelve phaser-rifles had been stacked there too, with the Staff Quarters earmarked as their last bastion - though Scotty knew that if they needed to retreat that far, the battle was already lost.

Another barrage of Klingon fire shook the room, and Reinhardt muttered something in German under his breath as he grabbed the edge of the console for support. "What do you want us to do with these hull plates?" he asked, pointing to the loaded trolleys that floated on anti-gravs just inside the doorway.

"We need to build a redoubt in here," said Scotty, crossing the room to help lift one of the inch-thick two-foot-wide panels, and heaving it into place between the console and the maintenance shaft access. "Fix them in place right across here, so that if the Klingons do break through we have something to duck behind. Overlap them till they're four feet high." He knew it wouldn't hold for ever against Klingon disruptors, but it would likely buy them a little more time before they had to retreat to the Staff quarters. He'd already rigged the console so that he could trigger it to explode when the time came.

Ngaio spoke up, as he followed Scott's lead and heaved another panel into place. "Crenelations on the top, sir?"

"Aye, why not? If there's enough panels."

"Trust me," said Reinhardt, wiping a sleeve across his sweating forehead, "There are enough hull plates in that store-room to build a wall round the entire station!"

"Bit late for that," said Scotty, as the room shook again, "We'll have to make do with what you've got there - I need to get the nacelles in place now. We'll just have to hope the screens hold." He moved back to the console, and accessed the transporter controls. He'd toyed with the idea of beaming one of the nacelles into the airlock to block it permanently, but had agreed with Angelus that if he did that the Klingons would just keep firing at them from space – and eventually, that tactic _would_ get through the shields and it _would_ kill them. At least this way they had a fighting chance, albeit a slim one. "The two main corridors are blocked," he confirmed, hitting the internal comm switch so that everyone could hear him, "And I estimate less than half-an-hour before the Klingons arrive." In the meantime – he couldn't help but smile at the irony – he had a maintenance shaft to go and inspect.

* * *

"I suppose you do realise that _none_ of these modifications is listed in that file?" said Rachel. She had finished fixing a force-field generator frame to the shaft walls, and was busy connecting the circuits to the conduit that ran above their heads. Similar frames had been wired up at 10-yard intervals all along the shaft, each on an independent circuit. In between them, engine parts and spare hull plating had been bolted at right-angles to the walls to create a series of bulwarks for the engineers, and an obstacle course for the Klingons. Nunez's gas-grenades had proved to be impractical – there was no way in the time they had available to seal off enough of the air ventilation to keep the gas contained – so instead they had taped sacks of flour to the overhead beams, half-way between the force-field frames, together with remote detonators.

"I'll have to complain to the publisher," Scotty replied, looking around to check that everything they'd thought of was in place, and wondering whether there was anything else they might do. He pushed a hand through his hair and rubbed his neck. "There isn't time to test any of this – or practise what we're going to do!"

Rachel lifted her circuit-connector clear of the conduit and fumbled with the power transmitter as she tried to twist it into place. "Hey – we're Starfleet engineers, since when did we test stuff?" Her voice was brittle, and she was having trouble getting the connections hooked up - the more she tried, the worse they shook and refused to co-operate. "Dammit!"

He took the transmitter from her, held her other hand still, and pushed the connections into place. Rachel squeezed his hand in silent thanks, and she looked so scared and vulnerable that Scotty wished with all his heart that he could tell her that everything was going to be alright. But a series of thuds and clangs from the direction of the airlock told him that the Klingons had docked with the station, and would be forcing their way in very shortly.

"Oh, the hell with it," he muttered, grabbing Rachel's arm and steering her into one of the nearby cross-tunnels that they had blocked with heavy machinery. He leaned her back against the tunnel wall and kissed her with desperate passion, allowing himself to forget the danger they were in for just a few sweet seconds, while she clung to him and returned the kiss with Interest added. "That's just in case there isn't a 'later'," he said, pulling away, and running his thumb across her still-parted lips. He forced a smile, "And if there is a later, I'll come fetch my tonsils back."

The smile she gave him looked as nervous as he felt, but she managed to return the quip: "What, you don't think mine are a fair swap?"

There was another clang from the airlock, and the maintenance shaft suddenly seemed to be full of determined-looking engineers all moving into their agreed defensive positions. Scotty looked back at Rachel. "Make sure your phaser's set on 'kill'," he said, "If the Klingons get back up – we won't."

She nodded, and he stepped back into the main shaft and walked slowly to the end nearest the airlock, double-checking connections and personnel as he went. The engineers had taken up positions in pairs behind their makeshift bastions, alternately left and right of the corridor, with three bulwarks between each force-field generator.

Angelus looked up from checking his phaser settings as Scott passed. "Ever heard of the Alamo?" he said.

Hill stood up from his own bastion a few yards away before Scotty could reply. "Don't be daft – everyone died at the Alamo! Ever heard of Agincourt?" he countered, his chin lifting a little as he spoke.

"How about Loudoun Hill?" offered Scotty, to blank stares. "Bannockburn?" He sighed. "Agincourt it'll have to be, then. 'Cry God for Harry…'"

"…_Starfleet_, and St George," Hill finished.

Scotty acknowledged the re-write with a nod and a grim smile, and looked back along the tunnel, at the people who appeared to think he knew what he was doing. "Everyone remember the plan?" he asked, and heard the 'aye sirs' echo back.

"I hate this part," said Nunez, as Scotty took up position next to him, behind the foremost bulwark.

"The waiting? Aye - but try to remember that the longer we wait, the more time the _Sherman_ has to come back and rescue us." Always assuming that the signal got through, he thought. There was no way of knowing.

Behind him, a clicking noise indicated that someone was moving their phaser settings from 'kill' to 'heavy stun' to 'stun' and back again.

_Click - click - click – click_..

"For God's sake, put it on 'kill' and leave it there!" Scotty snapped, not bothering to turn around to see who it was.

"Sorry, sir." Murray's voice. "Just nervous, I guess."

Silence descended as they all strained to listen for sounds in the airlock, but if the Klingons were cutting through, they were using something that couldn't be heard through the walls that separated them.

"Maybe they went away when we didn't answer their knock?" murmured Hill.

"Fat chance," Angelus growled.

"Shut up, the pair of you!" _Oh Lord, I sound like Nogura_.

Silence.

_Click – click_…

"Murray!"

"It wasn't me, sir."

He didn't find out who the new offender was, for at that moment they all heard the smash of the internal airlock door crashing open. Shouts in Klingon, muffled by the shaft wall, were followed by the sound of falling bodies and what might have been a disruptor firing.

"Hey, Werner, I think they found your trico-triticale," called Nunez, as more thuds, and what were probably curses, sounded from the other side of the wall.

Precious minutes ticked by, accompanied by what sounded like barked instructions and low-intensity disruptor fire - presumably the Klingons' answer to the scattered seeds.

"Get ready," Scotty called, "They'll be coming through that wall at any..."

The side wall of the maintenance tunnel blew in with a deafening crash, and if the first Klingons through it had not slipped on another scattering of trico-triticale, they might have had the immediate upper hand. As it was, the Starfleet officers had an extra few seconds to gather their wits before Scotty yelled, "One!" and he and Nunez stood up together and fired.

"Two!" he yelled, ducking behind the bulwark as Hill and Murray stood and fired.

"Three!" Angelus and Ngaio's turn.

"One!" He stood with Nunez and fired at the Klingons coming through the gap in the wall, ducked before any of them could return fire, and yelled "Two!" then "Three!"

So far they had taken down every Klingon that came into the shaft, but Scotty knew it would not take them long to realise they needed to widen the gap in the wall. He counted off three more shots, then yelled "Four!" which was the cue for his first three lines of defence to move back while the next two officers stood up and fired. As the six of them ran through the first of the force-field generators, he shouted: "Cease fire! Force-field!"

He heard a snap and hum as the force-field was switched on, and turned to see the wall beyond it disintegrate, right next to where he'd been standing just moments before. He knew the warp nacelle that was now part of the main corridor on his left would prevent the Klingons blasting in any more of the side wall, but in any case the gap was wide enough now for them to come through half-a-dozen at a time.

A dozen, more, Klingons poured into the maintenance shaft and began to fire their disruptors at the force-field.

Scotty signalled to the Ensign at the back of the tunnel. "Now, Zhang!"

On cue, the sack above the Klingons' heads ripped open, and a split-second later the falling flour dust was ignited into a sheet of burning flames that engulfed everything on the other side of the force-field.

"Bloody hell!" Tony Hill's exclamation was an apt description of the scene in front of them, and Scotty sympathised with Murray, who covered her eyes and announced that she felt sick.

"Well, don't throw up on me," said Angelus, who was standing next to her - though he sounded equally shaken, and a moment later he put a hand on Murray's shoulder and added: "Will you be okay, Carol?"

She took a deep breath and nodded, though Scotty noticed she avoided looking along the tunnel. "Yeah. Them or us, right?"

"Right." Angelus looked across at Scotty. "And now we've really annoyed them."

Scotty nodded, pulling his gaze away from the piled bodies. "There are plenty more where they came from," he said, "They'll be regrouping now they know what they're up against, so make sure you're all ready when that force-field comes down." He took a spare power pack from the bulwark beside him, and pushed it into the phaser he'd been firing. "Four, five and six - fire on my mark," he said as he moved to stand behind the three designated firing positions.

The Klingons returned as the smoke cleared, and they stepped over the bodies of their comrades and fired their disruptors at the force-field screen. As it went down, the paired Starfleet engineers repeated the alternate fire routine till Scotty judged it too unsafe to continue and ordered them back behind the next force-field. This time though, the Klingons feinted a forward move, and the explosion of flour dust merely scorched the floor and walls of the tunnel. Disruptor fire caved the next force-field in seconds, and Scotty fired his own phaser and yelled for covering fire from Bulwark Ten as the technicians at Seven, Eight and Nine retreated.

"Ten" meant Rachel, and Zhang who was preparing to ignite the next flour-bomb, and it took Scotty a moment to realise that there was no phaser fire coming from that side of the tunnel. Tallamy went down with a scream before he reached the comparative safety of their position, and Hill ignored Angelus' warning cry to leave him, and ran to help. He took a disruptor bolt full in the chest, and fell across the threshold of the force-field frame.

"Dammit, I told you to fire!" Scotty yelled at Rachel, firing his own phaser with one hand and helping Angelus pull Hill toward them with the other. "Zhang, put the force-field up!"

"But Tallamy..."

"_Now!_"

The Klingons were so close that the lead one bounced off the force-field as it snapped on, but at least that meant that the next explosion of ignited carbohydrate was effective.

Scotty dropped to his knees and wiped his sleeve across his forehead.

"Hill's dead," he heard Angelus say, "Tallamy too."

"I know." He couldn't - dared not - think about that now. There were only three force-fields left between the Klingons and the control room, and he could hear gutteral orders already being issued to the next wave of warriors. With a supreme effort of will, he got back to his feet and looked around to see whether anyone else was hurt. Then he looked again. "Where's Rachel?"

Nobody answered, and no-one seemed able to meet his gaze. He checked the floor, fearing she was injured, but there was no sign of her. "Ensign Zhang," he said, "Where's Lieutenant Halton?"

Zhang stared at the floor, and it was Murray who answered. "Lieutenant Halton dropped her phaser," she said, "And ran."

Scotty stared at her as though she'd started speaking in Vulcan. "She wouldn't..."

"She did, sir." It was Nunez. "We all saw her. I'm sorry."

Scotty shook his head and turned away, leaning against the humming force-field frame. "I can't deal with it now," he managed, unsure of if he'd be able to deal with it at all, regardless of whether they got out of this mess or not. He pointed with his phaser at the next wave of Klingons who were gathering at the end of the tunnel, "We need to get back behind the next force-field. Nunez," he turned back to the Ensign, "Put your phaser on overload. Zhang - when I give the order, lower this screen. Nunez, throw the phaser when the force-field goes down, and get yourself back behind the next one with the rest of us. Ready?"

The concussion from the resulting explosion knocked them all off their feet, and futzed the force-field they'd retreated behind, forcing them further back up the tunnel toward the control room, and leaving only one more force-field screen between the Klingons and the engineers' hull-plating redoubt.

"Gods, they can't keep coming," said Angelus, as he shoved new power packs into his phasers, "Can they?"

As though in answer, the comms system beeped, and Scotty sent Nunez to climb over the redoubt wall to answer it. "This is Commander Korv," growled the voice that came over the speakers, "You fight like cornered _Quatlh_, human _pugh_, but know this: the _Quatlh_ is always slaughtered in the end. You may have overcome our trainees and cadets - but now we will ready our elite warriors to finish you. Surrender now, and I will give you a quick and painless death." There was a pause, as though he expected a reply, then: "You have three of your minutes to decide."

"He wants to finish it quickly," Angelus interpreted, "Why?"

"Do you think maybe the _Sherman's_ coming?" said Zhang, voicing a hope that Scotty hardly dared contemplate.

"Maybe," he said, "What it does mean is that we have two minutes and forty-five seconds to sort out our next move." He checked his phasers were charged up and put them back on his belt to give himself a moment to think. "I want us all in the control room now, behind the redoubt. Zhang, you can control the force-fields from there?"

"Yes, sir,"

"Get the last one working, and see if you can coax any of the others out of retirement. Lieutenant Angelus - now's the time for you to man the controls for your Klingon Harvester, I think? The rest of you - grab all the spare phaser power packs and the phaser rifles and get behind the redoubt." He looked over the hull-plates toward the door to the Staff quarters, then met Angelus' steady gaze. "I'll be back," he said.

He knew he didn't need to tell anyone where he was going.


	5. Chapter 4

He found Rachel in his temporary quarters, sitting on the unmade bed, her knees drawn up to her chest and her face hidden. She looked up as she heard the door open, terror on her features, and he realised she thought the Klingons had broken through.

He halted, halfway across the room, and folded his arms. "You ran." Strange, he thought, that his voice sounded so calm and measured. But then, he wasn't so much angry as disappointed.

"Of course I bloody ran!" She scrambled off the bed and stood up, taking a few paces toward him. "I was scared witless!"

"So was everyone else. Including me. If we'd _all_ run, we'd be dead right now. Just like Hill and Tallamy."

She gasped, and he realised she had not even known that the two men had been killed. "It wasn't my fault!"

Scotty thought it probably was, but she was crying, and he couldn't bring himself to actually say so. In any case, it wasn't his place to judge – it would be for a Court Martial to decide the rights and wrongs, and apportion any blame. Assuming that any of them lived that long. "You deserted your post. In the face of the enemy." He felt torn up inside, but it had to be said. "You know what that means?"

"It _wasn't _my fault!" she repeated, and he wondered whether she was trying to convince herself or him. "I wasn't trained for this!" She pointed toward the control room, "This… hand-to-hand combat stuff! It's security's job!"

"But they're not here, are they, _Lieutenant_? We are!" He realised he'd raised his voice, and willed himself to return to a more reasonable tone. "Rachel, a good engineer should always be able to improvise, whatever the situation."

"Even if we're just about to die?"

He nodded. "_Especially _if we're just about to die."

He watched as she scrubbed the tears from her face and pushed back her hair, wondering if he had ever really known her at all. Rachel moved closer to him and rested a hand on his folded arms. "Please Scotty - don't look at me like that!"

"You're a Starfleet Officer," he reminded her, "And you… _ran_." He shook his head, and made to pull away, but she gripped his wrist and slid her arms around him as he hesitated.

"Don't hate me," she said, "I couldn't bear it."

"I don't hate you," he said. He held her tight, making a conscious effort to commit to memory the warmth of her body against his, the way she breathed, the scent of her hair, and the exact shade of blue in her eyes. Then he pushed her away, holding on to her hands as he went on: "I love you. But I expect I'll get over it. Given time."

He let her go, turned around and walked back to the control room redoubt. Just before the door slid shut he could hear her begin to sob.

* * *

Maybe the others had decided there were more important things to worry about. Maybe it was the look on his face as he picked up the one remaining phaser rifle and adjusted its setting to 'kill'. Either way, no-one saw fit to ask Scotty about Lieutenant Halton as he took his place behind the trititanium plates of their redoubt. "Report," he said to Angelus, while he looked around to see for himself what the situation was.

Angelus had stationed himself and Zhang at the console, and had put an internal view of the maintenance shaft up on the main viewscreen. "Ensign Zhang has managed to get two more force-fields back on line, giving us three altogether. The Klingon Harvester is on stand-by, and I can switch it on as soon as they start moving past it. There are also two more flour bombs in the shaft that we haven't used yet. It will take them a little time to get past that lot."

Scotty nodded, his eyes fixed on the Klingons he could see on the screen, grouping at the far end of the maintenance shaft. They too were now armed with some kind of rifle, and he was sure that the resulting battle was going to be short and bloody. Still, given that he'd just had his heart ripped out and stamped on, perhaps they'd be doing him a favour.

The Klingons began to advance up the tunnel toward them, disposing of the first force-field screen with no more than a couple of shots from their disruptor rifles, and Scotty turned to Angelus. "At your discretion, Simon."

The spinning blades descended from the tunnel roof and emerged from two side-tunnels. Scotty couldn't see how many Klingons they actually killed before a barrage of disruptor fire disintegrated them, but the tunnel walls were smeared crimson for fifty yards, and he counted five Klingons retreating back to their ship with limbs missing.

"Ew, Gods, is it okay to look?" Murray had crouched down and covered her eyes when she heard Scott's order, though she still looked queasy as she looked up at him.

"Pull the view back, Simon – we need to see this end of the tunnel now anyway," he said, extending a hand to help haul Murray back to her feet. "Them or us, Carol, remember?" he said, quietly.

"I remember – but if I didn't have a problem with the sight of blood, I'd have gone into medicine," she replied, checking her phasers and carefully not looking at the viewscreen.

"They've got wise to the flour," said Nunez, watching the monitor as the Klingons fired disruptors at the tunnel roof to set off the explosions from a safe distance.

"That's it then," said Ngaio, as the penultimate force-field flickered and died and the warriors marched on, "Here they come."


	6. Chapter 5

Scotty had hoped that the Klingons would emerge from the control room end of the tunnel in manageable numbers, but instead they had blown out a section of wall leading in to the main corridor, and were now coming at them from two directions – the shaft entrance, and the main door. Bits of ceiling were falling around him, the smell of blood and singed clothing filled the air, and the sound of weapons fire whined in his ears. His entire existence had now been distilled into two simple actions: 'aim' and 'fire', and he did them repeatedly, seeing Klingons go down as he pulled the trigger, only to see more take their place. Sooner or later, he knew, they would bring up a disruptor cannon, or a percussion grenade, and that would be the end of him and everyone standing with him.

But in the meantime, he had a job to do: stay alive.

So he aimed again, and fired.

The wall panel to his left disintegrated as it was hit by disruptor fire, showering shards of metal across the defences, and hurling Reinhardt, who was closest to it, into Scotty, knocking him over.

"Werner!" Scotty rolled to his knees and, seeing Angelus step forward from the console to snatch up the dropped phaser rifle, took a moment to check on Reinhardt. The young technician's jersey was shredded, his left arm was covered in blood, and there were metal shards in his shoulder. Scotty pulled off his own jersey and wound it around Reinhardt's upper arm, even though he knew the gesture was probably futile since they would all be dead in a few minutes anyway.

"Give me a phaser," said Reinhardt, "And prop me up against the console. I can fire when they try to come over the top."

"Werner…"

"Please – I don't want to just lie here and get shot."

It was only a few yards to the base of the console, though Scotty was sure that every inch of it was agony for Reinhardt. Handing him one of his own phasers, and with a brief word to the technician to hang in there, Scotty pulled the second phaser pistol from his belt, checked the charge and stood up.

And then suddenly the Klingons stopped. Scotty could see them in the corridor and the maintenance shaft, dozens of them, but they weren't moving forward any more.

"What are they waiting for?" Reinhardt said, in the sudden silence.

"Their Captain maybe," suggested Angelus, "He probably wants to lead the final assault himself."

The comm whistled, and Scotty strode to it, switched it on and said: "If you think we're going to surrender, you _ghuy'cha'_, you can…"

"Belay that, Lieutenant Scott."

"Commander Nogura?" Scotty could see his own astonished smile of relief reflected on every human face in the room. "Och, it's good to hear you sir!"

"Stand by to lower your screens, Lieutenant. We have a heavy cruiser off our port bow ready to see that the Klingons get home safely – and we will be within transporter range in ten minutes."

* * *

They were already wheeling Reinhardt out of the door in the direction of sickbay when the transporter room solidified in front of Scotty. Seeing Nogura waiting by the transporter console, he waited for the other five officers to step off the padds ahead of him then, as the medical team began to fuss round them, he moved forward to hand the XO a copy of the station's log, pulled from the central console just before he beamed up.

"I'm sorry, sir. We made a bit of a mess down there. I can't guarantee that all the station supplies and materiél are undamaged."

Off to his right, he heard the transporter room door hiss open as medical staff ushered their charges out, and he caught a muttered "Two entire nacelles? Geez…!" before the door closed again.

"Commander, I need to get this man to sickbay," Scotty heard Doctor Piper say, before Nogura could say anything - though it wasn't till Piper put a hand on his arm that he realised the CMO was referring to him.

"I'm alright, Doctor." Scotty held up a hand, which was coated in Reinhardt's blood. "This isn't mine."

"Maybe not, but that stuff all over your face is." Piper reached up, brushed Scotty's fringe aside and gave a grunt. "You've got a cut right across here, and there's a metal splinter still in it. Damnation, now it's bleeding again! Do as you're told, Lieutenant. Sickbay."

"But I'm supposed to report to the Captain. Regulations state…"

"Regulations be hanged." Nogura held up the tape Scotty had given him. "The Captain and I will need some time to review this before you make your report, Scott. In any case…" He looked Scotty up and down "…you're improperly dressed. Now cut along to Sickbay and get yourself cleaned up. Report to me in an hour for debrief."

"Yes, sir." Scotty turned to go, but halted mid-step when he caught sight of the ship on the external monitor screen. He forgot Nogura, Doctor Piper, and the blood running down his face. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. "A _Constitution_-class starship," he sighed, "I've only ever seen them on schematics. She's…" He reached a hand toward the monitor screen as though he could reach out and touch the other ship. "She's _beautiful._"

"She's the _Enterprise_," said Nogura, and Scott read in the Commander's face that he understood exactly why the engineer had been stopped in his tracks "And she's going to escort the Klingons back to their own border, so take a good look. It may be a while before you see her like again."

"Maybe one day I'll see her from the _inside_," said Scotty, dreamily.

"Goddammit, Lieutenant, am I going to have to _carry_ you to sickbay?"

"What? Oh, yes, Doctor, sorry."

He let Piper guide him toward the door, but it seemed Nogura hadn't finished. "Oh, Scott?"

"Commander?"

Nogura gave him a nod that hinted at respect. "There aren't too many officers who could have done what you did today." He glanced at the external monitor, his face thoughtful, then back at Scotty. "You _might_ just have what it takes, Lieutenant. But for now, while you're in sickbay? - get that haircut."

This time, Scotty understood. In the end, it all came down to discipline. He returned the XO's nod in kind. "Yes, sir."


	7. Epilogue

**Ghosts in the Machine**

**Stardate 1324.6**

The electrical hum of the Jeffries Tube on Deck 12 was still mocking him, but this time Scotty had it on the run. He prised off the rogue cover, threw it down the Tube into the corridor, and slid a new cover into place, then lay back and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of perfection.

"Hey, Scotty?"

He opened his eyes and slid out of the Tube, collecting the imperfect cover from the floor as he saw Sulu and Uhura approaching.

"We're en route back to earth," said Sulu, "ETA half-an-hour. We came to invite you for a drink – celebrate my transfer to Helm."

"That is – if you've exorcised the ghosts in the machine?" said Uhura.

Scotty handed her the sensor array cover as he fell into step beside them. "I've got the Jeffries Tube humming like a choir," he said. "But the ghosts in the machine?" He looked back over his shoulder as they reached the turbolift. "Those, I have to live with."


End file.
